


Just A Peck

by imcocklestrash



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Cockles Week, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imcocklestrash/pseuds/imcocklestrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared jokingly pecks Jensen on the lips one drunken night, and Misha flips out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Peck

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to do a oneshot. Feel free to PM me with (Cockles or Destiel) oneshot ideas or Follow my Instagram, @mishas.queen . I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> P.S., I'm very sorry if there are any errors. I will go through and correct them as I see them.

“Dude, you are so stupid,” Jensen says to Jared. I’m not sure what Jared did, but it was enough to make Jensen laugh.

Which is always my favorite. 

You can tell when he’s laughing because it’s the polite thing to do, and when he’s laughing because he finds something amusing. When he laughs because someone told a not-no-funny joke, he smiles and shows a little teeth. Not that I have a problem with that. But I think I like it better when he actually laugh. His nose crinkles, his eyes squint, and his mouth opens as he throws his head back. I find myself attempting to make him laugh quite frequently, simply because the rush it gives me to know that I’m the one to make him laugh compares to nothing else. My mind begins to wander to other things, like what it would be like to play with his hair and hear him sigh, or kiss the area right behind his ear and hear him moan, knowing that I’m the one who is making him feel that way.

I snap myself out of those thoughts.

Now is not the time to get a hard on. 

I also find myself thinking about these things a lot. It took a while to admit to myself that I had feelings for my best friend, but once I did, it was a lot easier to think about it. 

“Mish?”

Jared is now sitting against Jensen, their backs are pressed against each other. It reminds me of movie covers where they are leaned up against each other, looking into the distance. 

 

I look over to Jensen, who is calling my name. I realize that I zoned out again, and I regain attention.

“Jackles?”

I look at their faces– slightly flushed. It’s because of the beers, they’ve got to be on their sixth one by now.

I know that my face is flushed as well, although it’s not because of the beers.

“You alright dude?” He asks, taking another swig of beer. I smile at him and begin to reply when Jared cuts me off.

“Awh, Jensen’s so worried! Maybe you should go over to him, Jay, rub his neck and shoulders, maybe kiss him a little–“ 

“I’ll kiss you,” he says in a threatening tone. I know that it was meant to be taken as a threat, and I can’t help but laugh at his lack of ability to come up with good comebacks. 

Jared leans in and pecks Jensen on the lips.

It’s nothing more than a peck, it lasted a fraction of a second, but it was still a kiss. 

I sit there like an idiot, staring at the two of them. Jensen looks shocked, he’s tripping over his words though he can’t get any coherent sentences out. 

I scramble to get up, nearly tripping over my feet. I don’t have any shoes on, but I don’t bother getting them. The air suddenly seemed a lot thicker. Either that, or my throat was starting to swell. 

“Get out” was the only thing going through my head. 

I jet out of the trailer door, running down the street to my trailer. The pebbles that make up the asphalt hurt the bottoms of my feet, though I don’t really pay much attention. I can see my trailer, though it’s still a fairly long distance away. My legs begin to burn and I can her Jensen calling for me, but that just makes me run even faster. 

Before I know it I’m standing in front of my trailer door, fumbling with door knob to unlock it. I finally get the door open, slamming it behind me.

The air finally seems a little more reasonable. 

I lie down on the couch, listening for the door. I small part of me hopes that Jensen will come back for me, tell me how much he loves me and seal it with a wet one. 

The minutes begin to tick by. 

I imagine the scenario in my head– oh, how perfect it would be– restarting the dream as soon as it ends. 

It’s soon an hour later, and I realize that there is no “save the day” scenario. 

I ran.

I think about what I should do next. Should I go apologize? Should I explain myself? Should I leave him be?

I’m too tired to think about this anymore. I roll over, not having the energy to get back up and walk to my bed, and soon fall asleep.

 

The next day I don’t really see him that much. He smiles at me, like nothing ever even happened, which I look away from. How can you smile at me when I secretly have a crush on you, and you go and let my best friend kiss you? 

Rude. 

And so the days go on, radio silence between us is growing. We talk when we’re in character, and that’s it. Even his friendly smiles have stopped. 

 

 

It’s been a month today since the kiss, and I’m miserable.

I miss him.

As the days drag on, I find myself missing his laughter that I enjoy so much. 

I miss the way his nose crinkles, the way his eyes squint. I miss the way that he throws his head back the most. I think about him almost constantly. 

He tried talking to me today, though I blew him off. I nodded and walked off. 

Asshole move, I know. 

I walk into my trailer and go to take my costume off. I strip all the way down to my boxers when my door flies open. 

“Mish, you and I need to talk.”

He looks me up and down, so the excuse of “I didn’t know” isn’t valid. I notice his eyes linger slightly longer while on my boxers, which angers me even more. 

“Well Jesus fucking Christ, Jensen, I’m not changing or anything! Just walk right on in, pal, grab a beer and sit your privacy-invading ass on my couch!”

He rolls his eyes and huffs before speaking. “Well maybe if you weren’t acting like such a douche, I wouldn’t just walk in on you. You know, there is such thing as a door lock, you could simply lock the door–“

“I shouldn’t have to worry about you breaking into my God damn trailer!” I yell back. 

I realize that we’re being really loud, and people outside can hear us. 

He’s standing in my doorway cross-armed, and I’m standing in my boxers screaming back at him. 

Lovely. 

“Why are you being such an asshole?” he says, uncrossing his arms and legs. He would look daunting if it weren’t for the fact that I know that he’ll never hit me. 

“Why don’t you take a wild guess,” I spit back.

“I shouldn’t have to,” he retorts, mimicking my earlier comment. 

“Why are you acting like such a child, Jensen? Maybe I just want some space,” I reply. 

“So when Jared kissed me, you just magically decided you needed space?”

I glare at him. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I know you’re lying!” he yells. 

“So what if I am? Hm? So. Fucking. What. What if I’m lying straight through my teeth? What then? What if I ran out because I felt like I was dying, replaying you two kissing?”

I know I should stop myself, but it’s like the words are coming out on their own accord. 

“So what if I’ve missed you, Jen? Missed your laugh, your smile, your voice? The way you act shy in public, yet we all know you’re a huge goof ball? What if I’ve missed Friday nights with you? Having beers with just you and I in our trailers? Why does it fucking matter? Because you have Jared, and you survived with just him for so long, you can do it again–“

“Mish,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“So what if I’m thinking about leaving after this season?”

“Mish–“ He tries again, walking toward me. He’s about a foot in front of me now. He must have just gotten out of the shower, because I can smell his body wash and shampoo. I continue, though I can feel my throat start to close. 

“You can have Jared, and I’ll find somewhere else. I’ve made a name here, people call me left and right asking me to work with them. I won’t have any problem finding another job–“

He steps toward me that last foot, closing the gap. His lips press against mine. I can feel him trying to get me to respond. It takes a little bit, but I finally do. My lips start to move with his, against his, his hand gripping my hip bones as I grab small handfuls of his hair. 

I can hear people outside cheering, but we don’t stop. 

It must look really weird– he’s fully dressed, I’m in my boxers, and we’re kissing after a month of silence and a screaming match. 

I smile into the kiss, realizing one thing.

I don’t need to leave. I don’t need to ignore anyone. Because I love all of them, and I know they all love me.

Because this place, no matter how far we travel, is home.

Because the man who is now tracing my spine, moving toward my hair is the one I love.

Because he is home.


End file.
